


Thinking of You

by SolidPersona



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, awkward sexual fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolidPersona/pseuds/SolidPersona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet and Optimus Prime are in a loving relationship, but Optimus is away on mission for several months with a need for secrecy. With his lover gone, Ratchet is left to his own devices. He discovers something about himself that he never would have expected, but how will he deal with this new revelation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Typing the codes into the panel for his room, Ratchet slipped in before letting the door completely slide open. Sitting there off to the side of his quarters, his berth called inviting to his aching joints. Locking the door behind him, the medic staggered towards the berth before lowering himself front first into the padding. Pillows and heated blankets made his struts relax, rolling onto his back as he welcomed the warmth. Ratchet ex-vented as his optics shuttered. His frame let out low groans and pings as the plates shifted and his struts stretched. A servo reached behind him and fluffed the body pillows he had up near the headboard. He sat up and moved 

The base was quiet and the smell of his sweet spark still filled the room. Optimus had left for a mission with Skyfire, Bumblebee, and Jazz to a country on the other side of the world. For what exactly, he had no clue. What he did know, was that he had been gone for several orns with no contact. 

Ratchet could already feel a charge running through his circuits, heating up his chassis and interface panel. Every inch of him craved his lover’s touch, the thrum of his spark sounding against his as they curl up on the berth. The sensation of large servos roaming over his chassis’ windows, trailing down to his grill plate as they traced the sensitive seams. The mech had a way of making him squirm. Always so careful, teasing him to the point he felt he might just shoot someone. The thought of his gentle lover trailing his servos down lower, lower until they slowly rubbed circles onto his panel until it snapped open. 

The actual sound of his panel sliding back pulled Ratchet from his thoughts. “I suppose I needed this more than I thought.” He hummed to himself. A servo was moved to his chest plates as he turned off the sensation in the finely tuned digits. As they were moved down his plating, his vents hitched as a low pulse of charge started to flow. They traced along transformation seams, digging down into the crevices to pluck at the wires. Static built along his plating as he teased himself, his fans quickly kicking in to cool the rapidly heating medic. Still the digits moved, drawing paths along the metal until they reached Ratchet’s grill plating. There the palm was laid flat, running along the surface as it gradually reached the crotch plate. Without the sensation in his servos, Ratchet could pretend the hand was Optimus’s as his hips bucked up against it, feeling it pass his aching spike to drop lower. Where the folds of his valve eagerly awaited. 

Gasping as the first digit traced along the outer rim, Ratchet took his unoccupied servo and turned up the sensitivity. It was raised to his lips, his glossa lapping at the tips of his pointer and middle digit before taking them into his mouth. As the sensation flowed through him, his body rattled with a shudder. The sensors in his digits sent pulses of pleasure from their tips through his servos and all the way to his neural receptors. The digits near his valve slowly slid between his folds, brushing the entrance to his depths. A quick stroke, then another, before one used the lubrication it collected and slowly pressed in. The digits squelched as they moved within the valve, making the old bot moan static around his digits. Every movement was careful, teasing certain nodes while leaving others alone. Letting himself go to the sensations, Ratchet shuttered his optics and imagined it was his sweet spark. Optimus with his solid frame, laying down on the berth next to him as he slowly fingered him. Those soft blue optics watching his faceplates more than his valve as he worked him into overload, always making sure Ratchet was enjoying himself. With his optics shuttered as they were, he could almost feel Optimus watching him now. 

Fervently his digits continued their movements, thrusting into the valve. His dente bit softly on the digits in his oral cavity, his fans kicking on as he starts feeling a charge start to build. Lubricant dripped down from his valve and onto the berth, creating a small puddle as his digits kept moving. A low gasp left his intakes as his helm thumped back against the wall, working his digits deeper into his valve. Ratchet’s pedes began to shake as he tried to lift himself off the berth, arching his hips up to bury his digits deeper. The old medic was brushing the edge of a deep node before a sudden pain racked through him. Straightening out his pedes, he cursed as he turned the sensitivity back on in his fingers. Digging one of his digits under the plating of his inner left thigh, Ratchet grumbled as he rubbed the offended cord. “Slagging old frame. Outdated and falling apart. If I wasn’t useful, they would have scrapped me by now.” Ratchet huffed before changing his position. Moving with metallic groans and creaks, the old medic managed to turn himself around to brace himself against the wall. On his knees, Ratchet leaned forward as his servo returned once more to his valve. Two digits traced around the lips to collect the lubricant once more. Once coated in a thick layer of viscous fluids, Ratchet thought about the transfluid that would overflow his valve when he interfaced with Optimus. The taller mech holding his hips as the transfluid filled him in short bursts, in time with his mate’s spark pulse. It helped to bring about his new wave of arousal. His lubricant running freely as he spread himself and eased his fingers inside. 

Shuttering his optics, Ratchet sighed as the digits finally re entered his valve, and pressed inside to tease at his nodes once more. Turning off the sensors in his fingers once more, Ratchet ex-vented to alleviate some of the pent up heat in his chassis. Pulling up a memory file of Optimus, he moved his fingers in tandem with the memory. Ratchet moving his fingers as he rode his mate’s spike. The Prime’s servos on his hips as he was lifted and dropped, helping the older bot move on top of him. The memory had Ratchet’s fans whining loudly, trying to counteract the heat coming from the medic as his digits plunged into his valve. This position seemed to work better, allowing him to rock his hips as he filled his valve. Static filled moans began to leave Ratchet’s vocalizer as the noise of wet squelching became louder. The sound of Optimus’s voice so clear inside his mind as he asked, begged, for him to go harder. As the careful movements continued, Ratchet let out a pained sob. He could feel his valve twitch and begin to tighten around his digits, but overload stayed just out of reach. Within his CPU, Ratchet modified the memory file to put his mate under him, grabbing him by his hips as he moved up into him. Having him move faster, rougher, trying to match it to the speed he needed. With his optics still shuttered, he was relieved when everything started to fall into place. The muttered sweet nothings as Optimus moved under him, raising the charge in his circuits. 

As overload seemed close, the medic melted into his own touches and the vision of his mate. His lubricant pooled on the berth once more as he worked himself toward an overload. 

 

“My little pet, so wanton, so pathetic.” A rasping voice whispered up from under him.

 

A shudder passed through him as Megatron appeared in his mind. The gladiator warlord glaring up at him in contempt, fingers digging into his plating as the Decepticon’s spike pounded into his valve. The image was so crisp, it almost seemed as if he was there. The heat in his valve increased, ignited by the thought of the gladiator fragging him.

Ratchet let out a long moan as a powerful overload washed through his body. Every circuit in him sparking as lubricant streamed out from around his digits. The medic felt strutless as he rolled over onto a unsoiled part of the berth. He had overloaded at the thought of Megatron — the bot they’ve fought with for orns. How could he even think of that? Not to mention still be aroused by the very same thought.

 

What had made that idea even come to mind?


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus arrives back on earth and the base celebrates everyone's safe arrival.

Ratchet watched as Skyfire's contrails finally came into view. The Valkyrie shuttle had been entering earth's atmosphere for the past few hours, working off speed and cooling his shields. His nose was pointed towards the Autobot base, aiming for the runway that had been set up for the large aircraft. Most non-essential Autobots were waiting outside to watch as the shuttle landed down with their friends and Prime. It was a time of celebration. The mission had been a success, no one was injured, and they managed to find a new source of energon for their troubles. It was a mission accomplished and one of the greatest they could have ever hoped for.    
  
As Skyfire continued to draw closer, everyone looked on with excitement. They watched as his landing gear extended, his body angling to give him the best possible landing position.

Thunderous engines roared as he came closer into range. With a thud and a skid, he managed to touch down. Skyfire worked at slowing down, killing the thrusters, applying brakes, and then deployed the parachutes to aid him. He finally started to slow down at the half point of the runway. With only a hundred feet left on his runway, Skyfire managed to stop before turning himself around to move closer to base.    
  
The crowd cheered as their comrade approached, thanking Primus for the safe decent from space. The large shuttle positioned himself so his cargo doors faced the welcoming party. As they opened, Optimus Prime stepped down from inside. His hands waved to his friends as Jazz and Bumblebee exit behind him. Ratchet could feel his spark warm and spiral faster as his sparkmate met his eye. 

 

:It’s good to see you home,” Ratchet commed to his mate, a small smile creeping up on his faceplates.   
  
:It’s good to be home, old friend,: Optimus replied, his own smile barely contained as he tried to fulfil his duties as Prime before his personal ones. 

 

The celebration was soon moved inside to the rec room. Tables and chairs had been cleared to make room for everyone as soon as the ETA for Optimus was given earlier that day. Most of the base’s crew were already inside, conversing with friends and toasting to a safe trip home. Music was booming from loud speakers — courtesy of Blaster. The mech was currently doing security detail but had made sure the entertainment for the evening was well taken care of.    
  
A yellow mini-bot moved through the crowd, greeting everyone he knew cheerfully until he came to the area where the humans were on a raised platform. He placed sealed bottles of punch on the table they had set up for their human friends before adding two or three boxes of donuts. 

 

“I don’t know what human parties are like but ours usually include drinks and sweets so I made sure to bring an assortment of donuts.” Bee told his friends.

 

Spike rushed over to where his friend had placed the donuts and took out his favorite, maple log. “Hey, donuts are just fine with me, Bee! Not like human parties are all the same.”

 

Bumblebee chuckled before leaning on the secured platform. “That’s true at least. I’m just glad all of you were able to make it.” 

 

Raoul piped in from the corner of the platform from where he was talking to Tracks. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world, friend. The ark is our second home, and you guys are our family. Even if you all are a bit strange.” Raoul chuckled at his last remark before Tracks joined in.   
  
“Strange? I beg to differ. Your human systems are inefficient and waste precious resources,” Tracks said indignantly, folding his arms over his chest.   
  
Raoul simply rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, man. You guys still baffle me.”

 

Spike glanced over at Bee and rolled his eyes, motioning to the two others. Bee gave a mischievous smile and shook his head, not understanding how those two got along either.    
  
Outside and down the hall from the rec room, Jazz had cornered both of the twins. It was a celebration for their safe journey home and it deserved something special. 

 

“So I was thinking and I had this thought. ‘You know what this party needs? Some good pizzazz.’ Just the perfect thing to liven up this party.”

 

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked between themselves, not sure if Jazz was seriously asking them to break a rule. One of  Prowl’s rules, of all things. “Jazz, you know you’re our TIC. You co-” Sideswiped started before Jazz interrupted.

 

“I’m simply saying, if you two mechs get any ideas and certain things appear on tables. Well, then, I certainly would be pleasantly surprised.” With that, the TIC walked off and back into the rec room to enjoy the celebration.

 

As the party progressed, mechs and femmes alike were moving to the music. Spike and Carly danced together on their own platform. Spike twirled around with his girlfriend until they were both dizzy, laughing between themselves as they clung together for support. Raoul remained with Tracks, a stray hand resting on the vain mech’s arm. Every so often, a peal of laughter coming from either one of the two friends. Bumblebee had moved off to socialize with the other mechs, sharing a drink with Smokescreen and Wheeljack. Sometime during the festivities, large barrels of high-grade had appeared in the room. Mechs were drinking it up, especially after Jazz had managed to talk Prowl into letting it slide.    
  
In his own corner of the room, Ratchet nursed his cube of highgrade and watched as the others danced. It was several hours into the party and Ratchet had yet to have a moment with Optimus. With him coming home, Red Alert had needed him to approve several new security measures. It was an unfortunate but needed chore.

 

It didn’t mean, though,he couldn’t be sore about it.

 

Besides the short exchange when Optimus landed, they haven’t had a moment to talk since. There was the occasional ping that his lover sent him, telling him he was remembered. It wasn’t until the red and blue mech actually entered the room did Ratchet feel at ease. Optimus’ optics scanned the room before quickly landing on his old friend. Even with the large mech’s size, he weaved his way through the crowd with ease. The gap was soon closed as Optimus took Ratchet into his arms, careful to not jostle the medic’s drink.    
  
As soon as Ratchet was in his arms, Optimus let his field wrap around his medic until the glyphs of comfort, love, and relief mixed with Ratchet’s own. His faceplate retracted enough so he could lean forward and press his forehead to his lover’s. The intimate moment was brief but enough to satisfy both of them until they were able to be alone. Ratchet was the first to pull away, the medic having always been shyer about affection.    
  
:I’m so happy to see you again, Optimus,: Ratchet commed, giving a small smile.    
  
:I am too, old friend. I am too,: he commed back, raising a servo to cup Ratchet’s helm. :We should go join the party, I’m sure everyone will want to see us.:   
  
Moving back into the midst of the other mechs, everyone congratulated their leader on completing a successful mission. Many of them tried prying for information, curious on what the mission had been about. Optimus would only shake his head and say he couldn’t tell quite yet. The paperwork had to be finished and approved by Prowl before he could declare when the information was no longer highly sensitive. It went on like that for a while until the shifts were changed to allow the mechs on duty the chance to join in. Those not overcharged were sent to replace them. Thus, the questions began anew.

 

Sometime in the early hour, Optimus and Ratchet returned to their quarters. The party had worn them out. Partially stumbling, they leaned against each other until they managed to arrive at Optimus’s quarters. The Prime put in his code before walking in with his mate. He moved forward and crawled on top of the berth first. With some hoisting of his weight, he managed to move over enough for Ratchet to lay down beside him. The medic was soon after him, crawling over until an arm moved to wrap around Optimus’s chassis.  
  
Ratchet nuzzled his faceplates up against Optimus’s chassis, having moved the Prime’s large arm to rest on his shoulder. “I missed this.” The medic mumbled, too tired to raise his audial levels.   
  
Optimus smiled peacefully as he laid on his back, glancing down at the other beside him. “I missed it more, old friend.” The medic was pulled up into his arms and was given a loving kiss. He knew how much Ratchet had missed him, he could feel it in his field and see it in the way his optics glowed. It was a long mission and one he hoped was over and done with. The one good thing he had in this war was Ratchet and there was no one else for him. Now though was the time for recharge. There was more work to be done in the morning, and more catching up to do between each other.   
  
Listening to his mate's spark pulse, Ratchet felt his struts start to relax. Prime had already fallen into recharge, leaving just him awake in the dark room. He shuttered his optics and exhaled through his vents, calming his processor and shutting down subroutines. When he finally managed to fall into recharge himself, Ratchet was plagued with a recurring dream  
  
Megatron's glowering face and raspy voice.  
  
It seems only Optimus will have a peaceful recharge that night.  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this chapter, but there will be some next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first fic in several years. Feedback would be appreciated, at least on where I can improve or if people are even interested in it.


End file.
